diffusion
by staringatstars07
Summary: "Did you do this?" Simon choked on the words, something like betrayal sitting cold and heavy in his mouth. "I gave you everything I had. Was that not enough?"
1. inequality

By the time they arrived in England, the turrets of Watford were on fire.

Bricks and debris and corpses were strewn across the lawn. Simon watched in quiet horror as a starved vampire latched himself to the already drained body of a girl he remembered walking past in the halls. She'd always been smiling, and now her eyes were glazed in death, her mouth parted with the beginnings of a final scream.

"They're practically rapid," Baz growled through gritted teeth, whipping out his wand when one of the stragglers stumbled too close. "**Nothing to see here.**" To the closest vampire, he snapped, "Back off," not content to wait for the spell to take effect.

Penelope sent off a locator spell, one that would let them know if there was anyone in the school for them to save, and they waited, every second an eternity. Meanwhile, Simon was quiet. There was an ache in his chest that seemed to resonate whenever the vampires approached, a kindred emptiness. "Are there any dead spots here, Penelope?"

Baz fixed him with a sharp look, taking a half-step back. Simon barely noticed. He started walking before Penelope answered, following the pull of one polarity calling to another. Naturally, Baz wasn't about to let him go alone and neither was Penny, so the three of them made their way to the courtyard together where they found a young boy, no older than eleven, playing with a red ball.

Despair spreading through his limbs, Simon realized he hated that ball. In fact, he'd give nothing more than to toss it into a ravine and leave it there for the next thousand years.

"Did you do this?" He choked on the words, something like betrayal sitting cold and heavy in his mouth. "I gave you my magic. I gave you everything I had. Was that not enough?"

"Simon," Baz warned, a growl low in his throat.

The boy turned to Simon, revealing more expression than any other of them had ever seen before. There were tears on his cheeks. "I didn't mean to," he whispered. "I can't control it. It's like the emptiness doesn't belong to me anymore." He gestured to the carnage. "I tried to stop them. Nothing worked. No one listened."

Somehow, Simon understood.

He nodded. "It's not your fault. I don't think the emptiness belongs to you." He thought of weeks spent lying on a couch, of how numb he felt all the time. Baz loved him with the fire of a thousand suns, yet inside all he could feel was nothingness, a great expanse of space with the occasional smattering of dust and ice.

The urge to apologize welled up within him.

_I'm sorry you had to carry my burdens for so long._

_I'm sorry you're alone._

_I'm sorry I have friends and people who love me._

_I wish you did, too._

"You don't like being called the Insidious Humdrum, do you?" Though his attention was locked on the boy, Baz placed a hand on Simon's arm, grounding him. "Is there anything else you'd like us to call you?"

It was already clear to Simon what the Humdrum would prefer, though he'd never admit to it. Too afraid of being told off. Rejected. In some ways, he'd prefer it, too. There were times when he'd have given anything for someone else to be Simon Snow. Instead of voicing that particular thought, though, which would only upset Baz and Penny and possibly the Humdrum, he tried, "How about Si? It could be a cool nickname, if you like it."

The Humdrum appeared to consider it, mouth pursing in thought. "My name really doesn't matter." A small shrug. "I'm always alone, anyway."

Simon counted to three under his breath, knowing that what he was about to say would be met with resistance. "Baz?" The pale-faced vampire turned to look at him, one brow arching in question. "Penny?" Her gaze lingered on the boy a moment longer before flicking up to him. "Could you give us a minute?"

Immediately, Baz's grip on his wrist tightened. "You're joking."

At the same time, Penelope vehemently shook her head, "We're not leaving without you!"

"Trust me, guys. I can handle this on my own." Penny bit her lower lip, probably clamping down on an unnecessary reminder that he didn't have magic, but Baz… Baz looked like he'd been burned. His eyes went wide, then narrowed with suspicion. Simon felt claws poking through the fabric of his sleeve. He gently disentangled Baz's fingers, clasped his hand between his own, and pressed a featherlight kiss against his knuckles. "I'm coming back," he muttered. "You're stuck with me for as long as you want me to be."

"Forever," Baz whispered, chasing Simon with his eyes, his voice, his heart.

He wasn't going to leave, Simon realized. Somehow, that made everything worse.

Simon took one last large step away from his friends, bringing him closer to the Humdrum, close enough to touch. The boy started when he placed a palm on his shoulder, staring up at him in shock, then down at the hand touching him as though he couldn't quite believe it was there.

Behind Simon's ribs, something jerked, twisting violently. He lowered himself to the boy's level, meeting blue eyes without flinching. "Whenever you're ready."

Slowly, the boy nodded. There was a shout, the sensation of clawed fingertips catching on the back of his shirt, and Simon was standing alone, somewhere in the woods outside of Watford. If he listened closely, he was sure he could hear Baz screaming his name.

"Why do you do that?" He looked down to see the Humdrum frowning. "Why do you always try to leave him behind?"

Confused, Simon replied, "I did it so that we could talk in private."

"I don't mean now. In America. And before, too." The Humdrum shivered. It was cold in the woods at night. He wrapped his arms around himself, his chin jutting out slightly. "Everyone always leaves. Our parents. Penelope." Oh, that wasn't fair. Penelope had a life outside of taking care of them. "Agatha." She did, too. "You." Simon's thoughts ground to a halt. As though sensing that he didn't have a response, the Humdrum knocked his hand away. His gaze settled on the ground, watching his feet shuffle in place. "I don't want Baz to leave." A choked sound escaped him, like a bitten off sob. "He's the only one that never has."

"Unless you count when he was kidnapped by numpties." Shockingly, the Humdrum snickered wetly, and Simon chanced a smile. "It's not right," he started gently, "to keep people with us who don't want to be." Even if Baz said he was happy now, Simon knew he wasn't enough. Staying with him meant leaving magic behind. It meant living a normal, boring life and Baz was meant for so much more than that. He'd come to regret loving him, eventually. Simon was sure of it.

And maybe he was being a coward, but he didn't think he'd survive it if being around him made Baz miserable.

As though he'd been reading his thoughts, the Humdrum's blue eyes widened with horror, "You're afraid he's going to get bored and leave?"

"I'm Normal."

"You're not!" And a red rubber ball smacked Simon in the face. It bounced into the woods, rolling into the darkness.

_Good riddance_, Simon thought viciously.

Then he glanced at the Humdrum, who was breathing hard, spots of color flooding his cheeks the way they always did when Simon got angry enough. He'd never been this expressive before. On the other hand, Simon had never felt so numb.

What if the Humdrum had a little too much of his heart?

What if Simon had a little too much of his empty?

Well, if that were the case, the best thing for them to do would be to stick together.

"The Mage did this to us," the boy was saying, his small frame shaking. "He ruined us. He ruined everything."

"He's gone. He can't hurt anyone ever again. Not you. Not me."

For a moment, the Humdrum appeared pacified, then he clenched his fists, stiff and taut and fragile. "I don't want him to go." Simon bit down on a sigh. "I don't want to lose Baz."

"He deserves to live his own life."

"Is that what he wants?" The Humdrum fired back with a sneer. This whole exchange was beginning to feel disconcertingly familiar to the arguments Simon had been having inside his own head for months. "Who are you to decide what's best for him? Why doesn't he get a say?"

"Because he loves me. He loves me so much he'd never let me go, even if holding on destroyed him. And I love him. Which is why I can't let that happen."

He opened his arms, inviting the Humdrum in for a hug, but only if he wanted it. The Humdrum regarded the invitation with suspicion for a moment - Simon reminded himself that he'd been treated like a villain for seven years - then hesitantly circled his slender arms around Simon's neck. There was no pressure, hardly even a weight, but Simon smiled, regardless. "If it makes you feel better," he said gently, "I'm not going anywhere."

The Humdrum's chin settled on his shoulder. "It doesn't."

Simon's smile turned bittersweet, "I know."


	2. equilibrium

There was a gas station down the road that sold ice cream bars for cheap, so Simon walked with the Humdrum down the street and let him pick out a strawberry popsicle. They must have looked like brothers to the cashier, which was odd to think about after everything the Humdrum had put him through, yet Simon found it didn't bother him as much as it probably would have a year or so ago. Plus, it would be less dangerous for everyone if that was what they believed.

Baz reappeared soon after. His hair was disheveled and covered with soot. In spite of this, he still managed to saunter into the gas station as though he'd just walked off from a fire-inspired fashion show in Milan. The Humdrum regarded him cooly, unwrapped his popsicle, then headed towards the snack section. "I'll just stay in here while you two have a talk." Simon frowned, opening his mouth to protest, but the Humdrum beat him to it. "I'm practically the same age as you and I almost single-handedly destroyed magic."

Baz muttered under his breath, "I think he's getting a little ahead of himself."

"In any case," the Humdrum continued pointedly, "I obviously don't need a babysitter."

"The fact that you're an ex-villain actually has more to do with my reluctance to leave you alone," Simon said, "but while we're on that, you've really only existed for about seven years. Just putting that out there."

Exasperated, Baz pinched the bridge of his nose. It had been a very long night so far, and with each passing second, it was only getting longer. "Look, if you can stay in here for fifteen minutes without causing trouble, I will buy you candy and a soda of your choice." The Humdrum appeared to consider this, nodded, then disappeared into the aisle.

They wandered out to the curb, Simon taking a seat while Baz remained standing. There was a streetlight brightening the glistening wet road, brake lights coloring it red, and the lingering scent of smoke blurring their surroundings like a low-hanging cloud.

Simon lowered his head, "How many died in the attack?"

"There were a couple casualties. Most of the students were evacuated." Some of the tension left Simon's shoulders. When they'd arrived, it had looked like a massacre.

Dread crept in to replace it at his next thought. "The Coven is going to go after the Humdrum." The wizards wouldn't allow anything that could threaten their magic to live in peace. At this point, there was a good chance that Simon himself was included on that threat list, and he could hardly blame them for it. He'd spent the majority of his adolescence destroying magic and he hadn't even known what he was doing.

As usual, Baz followed his line of thinking without effort. He stiffened, "My family and I can protect you."

"I can't ask you to put your family in danger for my sake." A truck barreled down the road, kicking up spray as it went. Simon followed it with his eyes, aware that he would never know where the truck was going or when it would stop, if it ever did.

"You're not asking me anything, Snow." Baz placed a hand on Simon's shoulder, pulling his focus back to him through the contact. "You don't have to."

"And that's exactly why we should end this." Sometimes, Simon wished Baz would just let him drift. It would be easier for both of them.

Baz set his jaw. " I hate to break it to you, Snow, but there's no perfect, idealized version of you in my head. I've never thought of you as some kind of world-weary loner. You've always been a complete and utter dork." Though his words were lightly teasing, Simon couldn't help wincing at the assessment. He used to be so much - _too much_ \- and now he was just so underwhelming. Baz gave his shoulder another squeeze, this one harder than the first. It forced Simon to look at him. "You keep acting like staying by your side is some kind of martyrdom, like I'm heroically sacrificing my freedom by sticking by you, except I've always been in love with the boy who tripped over his own shoelaces, forgot his homework, and dedicated every hour of every day to making my life a nightmare. Having wings, losing your magic - none of that changes the fact that I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

"I'm useless, Baz. Worse than that, I'm a liability. One day it's going to get you killed, and I couldn't live with that."

"Then I won't get killed," Baz replied as though it were obvious. "I didn't fall in love with the Chosen One. I fell in love with Simon Snow. Who, I might add, did a spectacular job of fending off vampires without even a lick of magic." It'd torn up his wings with bullet holes, though, and nearly convinced Baz he was dead. Sure, it'd been nice to wield a weapon again, to deal some damage, but that time was already over and done. There was nothing left except to try for a fresh start someplace new, and wherever that place was, it wasn't in America with the vampires who might be able to help Baz, and it wasn't anywhere within the reach of the Coven. It was someplace normal, someplace dull.

Someplace where a vampire with a streak for the dramatics that would make Shakespeare turned green with envy would never be happy.

Torn between laughing and crying, Simon felt a sound rip out of him that was very close to both. "I'm trying to set you free here."

"I'm not trapped," Baz said quietly, leaning against him. "That's what I've been trying to tell you. I'm right where I want to be. You're not going to push me away. If you ask me to leave, I'll respect that," he looked briefly pained, as though saying that had cost him something, "but if you need me to wait until you're ready, then I'll wait. For as long as it takes."

"You deserve more than waiting for someone who may never be ready."

"There was never anyone else. There is never going to be anyone else." He stilled, looking up at Simon with a frown. "This doesn't have anything to do with me being a vampire, does it?"

Simon scoffed. "Hey, this isn't about your horrible self-esteem issues. This is about my horrible self-esteem issues, so get in line."

Chuckling, Baz settled down on the curb, "We make quite a pair, don't we?" It coaxed out a genuine smile, a rarity since the debacle with the Humdrum and the Mage had blown over. This one conversation wouldn't be enough to fix them, and there was still so much work that needed to be done, work that would inevitably pull them apart but, "At the end of the day, Snow, it's you and me. We'll get there," that didn't mean they couldn't come back together.

Who knows?

Maybe Baz would end up going back to America someday to learn more about his heritage. Maybe Simon would decide to move to a remote suburb with his 'little brother' and attend a normal college, with normal teachers and normal classmates... That didn't mean this had to be the end for them. They could make it work. They could find a way. Because, as Baz so earnestly point it, "This is true love, Simon Snow. You think this happens everyday?" And if Simon expected him to snicker or wink, anything to offset the cheesiness of the line, he was soon disappointed because Baz continued to drink him in with his eyes, stubbornly deadpan.

Simon swatted him on the arm, "You are _such_ a sap."

Breaking into a grin, Baz bumped him, "I'm _your_ sap," and for one infinitesimal moment in the history of time, everything felt like it might turn out okay.

* * *

**A/N: Open communication is key, my friends. Open communication and blatant Princess Bride references, because we all know Baz has seen that movie a hundred times and counting.**


End file.
